Thursday, April 30, 2009
And that's where it's stayed since Sunday, in the car that Tyler takes to work. So, I've been using Tyler's Old Spice. I smell very masculine.
Here's the question, though: why is it all shriveled up? It Tyler just not smelly enough to have need to use it very often, so it's just really old? Or, is this a byproduct of Arizona and a portent of what is going to happen to the skin on my face?
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Her visit didn't end up being terribly exciting, but I'm always glad to help people catch up on sleep.
Five thousand tantrums later, we're doing pretty well. No accidents yesterday and she even pooped in the potty, which has been one of the major sticking points because she hates Hates HATES pooping anyway. Really, the only way it happened was she told me she had to go and I made her (read: physically forced her) to sit on the potty until she went. It took about an hour. One hour of screaming and crying and ultimatums and saying "Lillian!" in that threatening Mom voice that I didn't know I had until I had children.
Speaking of that, I got a new calling as Primary Singtime Leader in which I teach songs to children 3 to 11 years old for two half-hour segments ever Sunday. My Mom and my sister have both held this calling quite successfully, so I felt like it was in my blood. Turns out, it is. Yesterday, I had all the kids (of which there are over 50) held in rapt attention while we learned "The Dearest Names" in sign language for them to sing on Mothers' day. It's times like this where I feel like my transformation into my mother is nearing completion, and as I get older, I realize that this is not necessarily a bad thing at all.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Tonight when I was doing the dishes, I cut myself on the iron maiden side of the box grater. You know what I'm talking about. There's the regular cheese grater side, the cheese slicer side, the little grater side, and the side of death. I've cut myself on that side at least 12 times in my life.
I wanted to know what the heck that side is even for, so I Googled. And, I've got nothing. Well, I learned that it's called a coarse grater, but I have no idea what you would grate on that sucker, or how the heck you'd clean it after doing said coarse grating.
Anyone else have this problem?
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Krissie asked me if ions from the sun were refracting off Nora, or something. I wish. I had been calling her Nora Sue, but that might prove confusing later. Not that Noraborealis will be any more clear.
While there's no ions from the sun around here, I don't think, there are a lot of ions to spare.
Monday, April 20, 2009
When Mom was here, Nora was extra fussy and she said, "Obviously, you're not feeding her enough." We had our 4-month visit today, and I think her assessment is false.
Length: 26.6 in (99th percentile)
Head size: 16.5 in (70th percentile)
Mom's solution to Nora's fussiness: solid foods. Here's Nora's introduction to solids. She was perplexed, at best. By the end, Mom was putting the food in her mouth and then forcing her head back in hopes that the food would just slide down her throat.
The doctor said she looks great except for the fact that she can't roll from her front to her back. I think she just got too big too fast and her muscles just couldn't keep up.
Friday, April 17, 2009
We were on a tour, so I couldn't ever sit in one spot long enough to get set up to take any good pictures. This one turned out pretty ok, probably because I used young Brandon's head as my tripod. It's a picture of the resident witch and her cat. The cat is the shadow on the bottom, easy enough to spot. The witch's nose is long and pointy on the top left. Here eye is just to the right of the shadow and her mouth is just above the cat's ears. See it?
And, ta da! My mom came too! I bet you're starting to feel silly for not coming too, because anyone who is anyone was at our house last week.
The following series of pictures illustrates how frustrating Lillian's whimsical nature can be. Hey kids, get together for a picture. Where's Lillian? Over on the telescopes. Lillian! LILLIAN!! Grandma, can you help?
Lillian is crying for her precious telescope. So much for me trying to feed her curiosity about what those big metal things were.
Telescopes forgotten, she's moved on to this mysterious wooden box thing. What is this? Tonya's children are starting to lose interest in the picture.
This picture captures Lillian, I think. Always on the go, always interested in something else.
This picture, although slightly unflattering to my sister-in-law (sorry), shows how incredibly hilarious Tonya thought Lillian's little face in the middle of all those kids was.
I baked a lot with those kids here. For Tonya's birthday, I made an angel food cake from scratch. Angel food cake has whipped egg whites in it, and you have to whip them twice, so the stand mixer was going for at least 30 minutes. All the other adults thought I was making a cake from a box, so they had no idea what the heck I was doing and secretly thought I had gone a little crazy. Wouldn't be the first time.
Mmmmmm. Angel food cake with strawberries and whipped cream. Maybe I'll make another one just for me, and I guess Lillian can have some too.
You can barely see those kids hanging on the fence, this is the best I could do in a jiffy with no tripod. Maybe because we got out of the city, but I'm really starting to see the beauty of Arizona. When we first got here, I hated it (July is really not Tucson's best month, perhaps its worst, actually) and I didn't really see the countryside as pretty either. I agreed with the Arizona axiom: If you pet it, it will bite you. If you touch it, it will sting you. And, if you eat it, it will kill you. But, it's really growing on me. See if I still like it come summertime, though. Then we'll see.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
I don't remember where I read this, but back in the way back time, people thought that the word ABRACADABRA held healing powers and one of the most popular cures was to write one letter of the word every day and by the time you got to the end, you'd be healed. Maybe I heard this in nursing school, but most diseases with a low mortality rate, like strep throat or chicken pox, last from 5-10 days without treatment. The ABRACADABRA cure even gives you an extra day's leeway.
Do I feel better because the new antibiotic they put me on worked?
Do I feel better because the old antibiotic just took a minute to work?
Or, do I feel better because I've reached ABRACADA?
Whatever is it, I'll take it.
I did have a Big Mama moment yesterday. In the post, Big Mama gets back from a trip and finds her house a mess and resolves then and there to fire her maid. I had this moment too, except I was coming out of the haze of sickness. She says:
I'm sure we've all felt this way at one time or another.
And then I remembered that I am the maid.
I wish I could fire myself, but I don’t know if I could find anyone else who would be willing to clean my house in return for a cold Diet Coke and all the change they can find in the couch cushions or the pockets of [my husband]’s jeans.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Lillian often asks me to sing her a song. Last night, I sang, for whatever reason, "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid. She started on my lap but after a few bars, she crawled off and sat just in front of me so she could look at my face. As the song progressed, her face got sadder and sadder. Then, right at the end, she burst into tears. Big, ugly, uncontrollable tears. She dragged herself onto my lap, buried her face into my shoulder, and between sobs, she said, "That song was too sad, mom."
The antibiotics they gave me don't seem to be working, which means it's a virus and that I'll have to just wait it out. Tyler is anxious to get back to work which makes me feel bad, but there's nothing else I can do.
I called the nurse hotline to ask a question about taking Tylenol.
Me: (Explains whole situation) So, it's the fever that's going to help kill of the virus, so should I be taking Tylenol to control my temperature?
RN: We consider a temp of less than 102 safe.
Me: So I shouldn't take Tylenol unless my temp goes over 102?
RN: Right. What bothers you most?
Me: My throat really. It is beyond painful to swallow.
RN: You should take some Tylenol for that.
Me: Won't that bring my temperature down?
RN: Yes... why is that a problem?
When I went to Urgent Care, the MD offered to prescribe me something stronger than Tylenol to deal with the pain. I said I had stuff left over from my delivery. This morning was the first time I took them.
I even told Tyler whom he is and whom he is not allowed to marry in the event of my passing, I feel that bad.
Friday, April 10, 2009
See, my mother had 7 children and would accomplish all that grocery shopping by filling up a cart and leaving it at the front of the store while she filled her second cart. One particularly trying day, she left her full cart at the front and when she returned with the second, she found that some helpful clerk had put away all of her hard-fought groceries. She burst into tears and the store manager felt so bad that he gave her a houseplant.
I wanted a plant too. Such is strep throat.
Then, a few years later, one month after I got married, I got strep throat again. We were poor and didn't want to pay to have my throat cultured because I was pretty sure I knew exactly what I had. The doctor said he thought it was strep too because people who have strep throat talk like they have a hot potato in their mouth.
This morning, I woke up with a hot potato mouth. Beware of strep throat all ye that enter here. My Mother's helpful words of advice as she left to go back to California: don't breathe on your children.
(She did say other helpful motherly things, but I just thought this one was the funniest.)
Thursday, April 09, 2009
We visited Colossal Caves. Our tour guide warned us that there was some low-hanging formations and that anyone over 5'7" will have to crouch down.
My mom (who is also here (party at my house)):Well, I don't have to worry about that. (She's 5'1" or 2")
Maddy: Me neither, I'm six years old.
After dinner, a couple people pitched in and helped.
Grandma Ball: Well, that went fast with all those people helping.
Me: Well, like my mom always says, 'many hands make light work.'
Ty (age 8, I think): Yeah, well, many hands also make a lot of messes.
Maddy: Aunt Amanda, what are you going to be when you grow up?
Me: I don't know Maddy, what do you think I should be?
Maddy: A nurse maybe. I'm going to be a pizza chef and no one will change my mind.
later that night
Maddy: When I grow up I'm going to live in Washington D.C. and be a secretary.
Me: Oh, a secretary of what? Defense? Transportation? Education?
Maddy: Um.... Elevators. Yeah, Secretary of Elevators.